


Let Yourself Go, Darling

by Doezo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Genji should have better things to do, Hanzo's still learning how to feelings, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reinhardt best wingman 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 13:04:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7619194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doezo/pseuds/Doezo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Under the setting sun in Gibraltar, they sway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Yourself Go, Darling

An orange light drifted across Gibraltar. Cargo ships dotted the horizon, accented with seagulls diving for their dinner and heading home to their nests to rest for the night. Off in the distance, a fog horn of a ship echoed off the hills, mingling with the muffled pop music from inside the mess hall. Undoubtedly, Hana or Lucio had gotten to the AUX cord, claiming the entire system for themselves for the time being. An artist Hanzo didn’t know was booming through the walls.

 

He was outside, not wanting to shadow the party with his oddly tense presence. Genji had offered him some sake to sit down and relax a while, but Hanzo had declined. He was outside, sitting on top of the main tower outside of Winston’s lab. His muscles were still tired from the mission the day before, but his will to sit alone outweighed the strain in his shoulder where he’d taken a tumble on it. Angela said it was fine and to stay off it if he could help it. A knowing look told her that probably wouldn’t happen, so she gave him some pain killers. He also hadn’t taken those. Didn’t need to. 

 

Despite Genji’s offer for sake before, which Hanzo had turned down, he reached for his flask which had a sweet plum wine in it. There was barely any left, he’d had some on the mission, but not that much. It took him a moment to remember that the cowboy had had most of it. Hanzo had offered after McCree took a bullet in the side. His chest tightened when he thought of McCree’s strained voice, grimacing over the comm’s unit: “ _I’m hit_.”

 

He pushed that memory out with a swig of his wine. Angela had been with him, so McCree had been fine. He’d even been up and walking around at the small celebration they were having in the mess hall, eating whatever food he could get his hands on and drinking some whiskey shots with Zarya. (“Pah, too weak!” She’d complained, ignoring the small cough from McCree as he had trouble getting it down. It was good stuff, but not as good as the pure vodka she’d brought from her homeland.)

 

Movement draw Hanzo’s eyes off the horizon. He put his hand on his bow and looked down at the cliffs, the small grassy area between the tower and the drop down to the ocean. The red serape made his grip on his bow loosen, but his annoyance grew. He slung the bow over his shoulder and closed his flask. He stood then quietly made his way down to the ground, taking a small leap near the end of the wall but landing quieter than a bird. The clatter of his arrows gave him away, despite his soft landing. 

 

McCree looked up from a tiny bottle of pain medication Angela had given him for his side. Hanzo wondered how much of the stuff she had left in storage, they all seemed to go through it like candy with how much they get hurt. His eyes flickered from the bottle to McCree. The cowboy spoke first, he usually did.

 

“Howdy.” He grinned, pocketing the medicine. “How come you didn’t come inside? Reinhardt was lookin’ for you. Wanted to play beer pong.” The archer regretted the one instance he’d played with the overgrown man about a month ago. His aim had helped him ‘win’ and Reinhardt was overjoyed and always wanted to see him do it again. 

 

Hanzo ignored the question. “You’re not healed yet, why are you out here?” He asked, curt. He looked at the way the aloof fool was leaning on a crate to get some pressure off his side while he stood. The archer’s mouth grew thin when he realized the hypocrisy of his scolding.

 

“Just thought I’d have a cigar. I don’t like smokin’ around the kids, y’know? Feels wrong.”

 

“Don’t have one around me, either, if you’re being so kind as to take others into consideration.” Hanzo had given up smoking years ago after his lungs started to burn just from basic exercises. McCree’s cigars smelt nothing like the cigarettes he used to have, but the temptation was still there.

 

Surprisingly, McCree slipped the unlit cigar into his breast pocket. “Didn’t know it bothered ya, maybe this is a sign to quit.” He lied. Hanzo had made it known many times how much it bothered him. But they all had their vices, he was just lucky McCree stayed away from the whiskey nowadays. 

 

The wine on his hip became heavy. What a hypocrite.

 

“You should be resting.”

 

“Then I’ll sit. Sit with me?” He asked, already sliding his back down the crate and sprawling his legs out in front of him. Hanzo was more graceful, sitting down cross legged beside the fool. There was a wince from the both of them when their respective injuries burned. McCree let out a sigh and took his hat off so he could lean his head back on the wooden crate. Hanzo kept his eyes on the ground in front of him.

 

“Mission was fun, huh?” McCree chuckled and put a hand on his side. Hanzo noticed.

 

“Don’t be an idiot. It was a disaster.”

 

“We won, though. I mean. We mostly made it out unscathed.” McCree looked down at the blue plaid shirt he had on. Under it, the bandages compressed tightly just under his ribs. 

 

Hanzo saw McCree get shot, though at the time he didn’t know it. The man had pulled away from the action to get higher ground. Not being as mobile as Hanzo and Genji, he had to trudge up some stairs to find a perch. It was an intense moment in the action and they were all waiting for the order to retreat until McCree had used his Deadeye. Hanzo had watched the man possessed with his uncanny aim and shooting six Talon agents in the head all seemingly at the same time. He’d been so in the zone, he hadn’t realized he’d been shot, so he didn’t jerk in pain like he would usually. He didn’t know there was a bullet in his side until the adrenaline wore off.

 

_ I’m hit. _

 

Hanzo scowled at the ground but closed his eyes and tried his best to suppress it. Months ago, Hanzo would’ve lectured him and snapped about how he was an idiot for Deadeye’ing in plain sight, but it had worked and he knew it. It’s the reason they didn’t have to retreat. He took in a deep sigh and opened his eyes again.

 

“I am...grateful you’re feeling up to cracking jokes, as stupid as they are.” Such tenderness made McCree pause and Hanzo almost regretted saying it when he saw that stupid smile creep up on his face.

 

“Aw, Han…”

 

“Stop. Stop right there.”

 

“That almost sounded like… I dunno, affectionate?” 

 

Hanzo didn’t know why that stung. He’d been trying his best with McCree, even going as far as asking the women, and Lucio, how he should be acting. They told him to loosen up, enjoy time with him, try and be as relaxed as he was with his brother on those nights where they sneak off to drink sake and reminisce. He was trying.

 

“McCree--”

 

“ _Jesse_. Come on, how long have we been together?”

 

A bright pink painted over Hanzo’s cheeks. He blamed it on the wine. “Jesse.” The word sounded foreign every time he said it. Every time McCree--no, Jesse, told him to call him that. Tomorrow he would go back to saying McCree, and he would have to be told again. “Your recklessness in battle will probably be my undoing one day.”

 

“Y’all think I’m happy having you dartin’ up walls and pissin’ off to God-knows-where in battle?” Jesse rolled his head on the crate to look at his tiny boyfriend. “You make it hard to relax. Maybe that’s why I’m always bein’ so reckless. I wanna kill them and end it quickly so you don’t get hurt or flanked.”

 

Hanzo scoffed, “I do not get flanked.”

 

“Yer welcome.” Jesse drawled, a lazy smile on his face. 

 

The muffled upbeat music shifted. There were voices of “What is this? Who put this on?” followed by Reinhardt’s booming, “You kids and your deathcore and junkpop! Missing out on the classics!” Nobody really knew how Reinhardt got the AUX, or knew how he knew how to use it. 

 

It was a slow song, a familiar orchestral tune that Hanzo had heard here and there when Reinhardt was in the library. Piano music drifted out through the window, along with the voices of discontent complaining about how they were going to fall asleep to this.

 

“This ain’t bad.” Jesse mused, looking out over the water. After a moment, he pushed himself forward, gripping onto the crate to lift himself up. Hanzos hand twitched, moving it over to gently place on Jesse’s back, steadying him. Jesse stood and offered his hand down to Hanzo to help him get up as well. Hanzo took it, and wasn’t expecting what happened next.

 

Jesse didn’t let go when Hanzo stood up. He wrapped a hand around the archers waist and pulled him in close. Hanzo was expecting a kiss, not for Jesse to start moving his feet to the rhythm and pulling him along. 

 

“ _Jesse_.” Hanzo spat, wanting to pull away. A look for absolute embarrassment dawned over his features while they danced. Or, while Jesse danced. Hanzo was darting his head around, making sure nobody was near. He swore he saw a silver streak dart across the rocks above them. _Genji, you voyeuristic fuck_.

 

“Let yourself go, darlin’.” Jesse murmured, pulling Hanzo in even closer. He pressed his cheek against the smaller man’s head. Hanzo’s never felt his chest so tight. 

 

He didn’t dance with Jesse, he didn’t know how. There weren’t many moves to it, they were barely doing anything other than swaying back and forth. All of Hanzo’s poise and gracefulness failed him in these moments, it was like he forgot how to use his legs ( _all over again_.)

 

“Aaaand…” Jesse gripped Hanzo’s waist tighter and pivoted him around. Hanzo knew this move as ‘dipping’, and the sheer delight on the cowboys face was hard to get mad at about it. He didn’t like being reliant on the other man not to fall, so he quickly pushed himself back up before Jesse could make a move on him, which was clearly his plan judging from the slight disappointment on his face when they went back up.

 

Though, Hanzo didn’t pull away.

 

With the fading sun, the night-time security lights started to flicker on. Hanzo was familiar with the song well enough to know the end was coming up, and something told him Jesse knew it too. With a hand on his hip, he pulled Hanzo in with a surprising gentleness to press a soft kiss to his lips. Hanzo didn’t know if Genji was still around, but he didn’t have the time to check before he felt himself melt into the kiss anyway. 

 

He placed one hand on Jesse’s side and felt a wet patch on his shirt. 

 

Hanzo jerked away from him with a gasp and looked at his hand, painted with a small blot of blood.

“You fool! Your stitches! When did they open?” He barked.

 

“Uh, when I dipped ya. It’s fine! C’mon come back--”

 

“You think I’d dance with you while you bleed in my arms?” He pressed a finger to his ear, through Jesse’s pleading _No, don’t_ … “Angela.” He spoke to Athena, telling her who he would like to be connected to.

 

“C’mon sweetheart, I can just press a napkin to it! Don’t get her involved, she’s already madder than a bobcat in a pissfire about me bein’ up and around.”

 

“Perhaps you should take the hint and rest!” He spat.

 

Their romantic evening ended with sitting in the medbay, watching Jesse get more stitches weaved into his side. Angela said she would heal it tomorrow morning, and Hanzo suspected it was to teach Jesse a lesson.

 

After a couple morphine pills, Hanzo had to help the idiot back to his room. He was clumsy and a little loopy and didn’t look like he’d stay laying down if Hanzo had left. He asked for Hanzo to stay with him, maybe lay against his good side so he wouldn’t roll away and injure himself more. 

 

He stayed that night, falling asleep to Jesse gently humming the tune they were dancing to. 

**Author's Note:**

> (guitar riff)


End file.
